The Pimperneled Infirmary
by Percy's Gadzooks
Summary: My first story involving Sir Percy, Scarlet Pimpernel, and such.  Sir Percy meets up with Chauvelin but gets tied up in unusual events at the completely wrong place at the completely wrong time. Please Read and Review!
1. Road to Calais     August 1793

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, but Sir Percy Blakeney had been feeling more than anxious than usually during his final ride across the old hoof-beaten road before he would once again board the Day Dream and reunite with the wondrous woman he felt lucky to call his wife, Marguerite. Not only was he in full anticipation to hold her beloved face in his hands but also ever since he had spotted the man fully clothed from head to toe in the most hideous apparel, completely black except for the small tricolor ribbon.

Of course, Percy had never been wary of the his enemy, Chauvelin, but he certainly felt as ever since he had laid down the small gold piece to his favorite France tailor, he had been followed, watched. A bump from a stranger and then a bone-chilling stare, a snap of a twig, Percy knew that he someone on his trail that he most certainly did not wish to be following his every move.

Percy urged his horse faster and faster, the beast panting as it lugged Sir Percy's 6'3" monstrous stature across the path, its legs and neck lathered with sweat. The sound of thunder rolled off in the distance. No... That isn't thunder; it's a beautiful day outside. Turning his head, Percy saw the what he had been anticipating ever since he showed his forged papers to the guard and the gate, but before Percy could react and veer off into the woods he heard the loud band of a gunshot and a piercing pain in his right leg.

He tried to go faster but the sound reiterated itself and before Percy felt more than a twinge in his side, he was falling to the ground, headfirst "Demmned good shot," he muttered with his eyes clothed and the world turning fuzzy around him. Percy remained conscious for no more than a few seconds as he heard hoof steps pace around him, and two men dismounting from the horses. One, an everyday republican from France, but the other; The other was a man of the small stature, clad in black, and with a mischievous smile on his thin, pale lips. Then a laugh... one which would make one's blood curdle but all that Sir Percy felt was that the world went suddenly black.

Sir Percy awoke in white, bright room. _Sink me! Where am I? Please don't tell me I have inherited the madness from my mother and am slowly growing insane!_ Hearing a beeping to his right, Percy twisted his body but felt a searing pain swell on his right and laid back down with a gasp.

2


	2. Folding and Unfolding

Chapter 2

"Dr. Cameron," said a middle-aged women with brunette hair, "I think he's finally awake." Sir Percy heard the women and tried to stand out of courtesy, but found himself unable to raise his torso and move his right leg. "Now, sir" said the lady, "don't you go messing up those bandages on your waist." She was dressed in a man's nightshirt and breeches of the most... unusual pattern, enter the room. _And her voice... it isn't British... and it doesn't have the accent of French... but she does speak in English_. Sir Percy had never been to America but had talked to merchants from the far off land and the accent did certainly have the hardened tone of the Americans.

After seeing the apparel of the woman, Sir Percy, fearing the worst, angled his head downward onto his own wardrobe and stared down at his own clothing, mouth gawking, and saw what looked to be a white dressing gown made out of what seemed to be a parchment-like material and his leg wrapped in an unknown material, hanging in a sling. "He's definitely awake. You should come take another look at him." She said again, suppressing a laugh as she saw the look of complete astonishment on Sir Percy's face. Ignoring the pain, he sat up in his bed to see a man of about his own age enter the blindingly bright room.

"Thank you Suzy. Let's see what we've got here." Standing at the end of the bed, Dr. Cameron looked at a wood block stacked with papers. "So... a young lady found you unconscious, laying in the ditch off of the bicycling path in the suburban section near Boston. Hhm? Apparently you were dressed like you were going to a costume convention featuring past century clothing!" The man smiled as he looked at Sir Percy. "You had wounds in your leg and side that seemed to look like gunshots and a gash on your head that looked quite... astonishing! And nonetheless... when we underwent surgery we found that the bone in you leg was shattered and a bullet merely centimeters away from your lungs. And your CT scan showed a major concussion. If that lady hadn't found you, you would have been a goner."

_Bullets? Gashes? The pain? But wait... clothing from _past _centuries? Fashion changed quickly... but not that quickly. _Slowly, Percy remembered everything. Seeing Chauvelin and his anxiety to get home. And falling, hitting his head, feeling the pain. _Gadzooks! I have gone truly mad! Oh what Marguerite must think!_

"Well," said the doctor. "What do you remember? Anything? Are you deaf? Speak up!"

"Sink me, my dear fellow, if I could even think with such a bird squawking in my ear then there must be angels in heaven looking over me!" Percy, speaking in his flippant tone and giving his shy laugh, suddenly cringed from the pain and heard the beeping on the machine pace faster. Dr. Cameron rushed over. "Lud sir, if I was rushed every time a nip bit my side I would certainly stay locked up in my own safe quarters!" Said Sir Percy, still in pain.

"Certainly." Exclaimed the slightly embarrassed M.D. "Well... seeing that you have been unconscious for 12 days "

"What?"

"12 days. And in that time we haven't been able to discover any person who as ever even seen your face before. All we found were these papers written in French in you pocket and what seemed to be gold in the other. So what I'm trying to say is... who are you and why were you wearing such clothes and..."

"I can only answer a couple inquiries at a time, dear chap. Sir Percy Blakeney at your service and the reason I _was" _looking down at his... dressing gown, "wearing that exquisite linen is because it is of the highest fashion in English society! I would not be seen in anything less! By the way... If you would ever so politely answer _my _question, Where am I?"

"The Boston Hospital" The doctor lulled over the information given to him and made a self-reminder to find Dr. Wade to give Sir Percy's CT another long look... and... find the therapist. "So... Your name is Percy Blakeney."

"_Sir_ Percy Blakeney, Baronet"

"You were brought from a call from a lady who found you on the biking path, facedown, in Boston and covered in blood."

"Apparently, but I believe it was _outside_ Boston- Ach" Sir Percy, sitting up, had twisted his torso in the incorrect manner.

"Please lay still _Sir _Percy. And you are apparently _very_ British, appeared in the "latest" fashion and was holding nothing but French Papers several dozen gold coins."

"Yes, _Yes_, Which ones? And I believe so. "

Suddenly, the nurse entered the room. "Dr. Cameron, you are wanted by Dr. Page to talk about the condition of Ms. Paisley." Dr. Cameron seemed reluctant to leave. He still had many questions to answer such as where Sir Percy had come from and why he was found where he was in such critical of a condition. The name of the man seemed vaguely familiar, but he did not know where from. Maybe he would leave the nurse to talk to Sir Percy for awhile.


	3. Stitch in the Side

Sir Percy lay as still as possible because if he so much as sneezed his room would be swarmed by a bunch of busy-body by his selected nurses and doctors. So, he just sat there listening to the rhythmic beeping of the large device to his right and wondered what the big shiny box was that was hanging in the corner ceiling of the room. The pain in his side was excruciating and his leg ached dull and unheeding, but neither was nearly as annoying as the certain nurse Suzy. Usually his good humor would accept such laughter as hers, constant, bubbly and very high pitched, but his current pain put his patience short.

She would constantly try to make jokes _insulting_ his previous wardrobe while perfecting the arrangement of the flowers in the vase that was situated on the side-table to Percy's right and accompanied by picture of a kitten being inspected by a giraffe.

Without warning, a gush of terrible pain swelled in Percy and he wasn't able to conceal a small grunt and the increased speed of beeping from the machine. Much to his dismay, _that_ nurse entered his room carrying a tiny vile of liquid and moving towards the cabinet situated along the left side of the room. Sir Percy eyed her nervously as she drew out a long needle from one of the drawers and sucked up the liquid from the small bottle.

"Don't worry dear, this will only hurt for a moment and then your side will feel _so_ much better," said the nurse as she moved over to Percy and undid his bandages.

Percy, having only been awake for less than 24 hours had not seen his would until and eyed the inch-long gash yet. Sir Percy had indeed seen stitches before, but none of this sort, kind of like a small caterpillar inching across his lower abdomen. The injury had, much to Suzy's dismay, begun seeping again and Percy's bandages were sopped with scarlet.

"What... what are you doing with interesting solution of what I would imagine to be medicine?" queried Sir Percy, voice unquivering but still foppish all the same.

"I said _don't _worry. It will only pinch for a second and then your side will feel much better," repeated the nurse.

"I've never heard of such a thing. Us men meet our pain. We have no need of pain reducers," said Percy, again in his dandified tone and waving his arms up and down in his own affected manner, ignoring the sudden twinges as he threw his arms towards the ceiling.

"They are called painkillers, Mr. Blakeney. What are you a monk?" Said Suzy. Then mumbling to herself, "never heard of painkillers, never heard of such a thing." Talking in an audible level to _Sir Percy_. "Now, please just hold still. Hey look, there's a blue jay at your window!"

Trying his gentlemanly hardest, "If you will, madam, continue with the task at hand, I could resume trying to figure out that box in the corner."

Sir Percy grimaced barely noticeably while the nurse inserted the needle into his side. "You certainly _are_ a monk, Mr. Blakeney. Have you never seen a television before? Or are you teasing me, you naughty boy?" She laughed at this as she withdrew the needle and set in the sharp-objects container and wrapped Sir Percy again with fresh bandages. Much to Sir Percy's relief Dr. Cameron entered and bid Suzy to leave.

"I am truly sorry for having picked such a nurse to occupy this ICU room. I certainly know how much of a handful she can be." Said Dr. Cameron with the corners of his mouth curling upward, indicating his perpetual light-heartedness.

"Damned inconvenient that needle is. I've never been a man to scowl at pain but such a contraption was never needed to pierce my abdomen, especially when I was in such deep concern of that box over there. But it seems quite preposterous to have a glassy cabinet so high up on the ceiling." Sir Percy again entered a state of glassy-eyed puzzlement until Dr. Cameron brought him back into his world with a quick call of Percy's name.

"Sir, are you saying... are you saying you've never seen a television before." Said Dr. Cameron, chuckling," You know, I start to wonder about you some time as you are quite... unusual." Dr. Cameron stared at Sir Percy Blakeney, wide eyed and absolutely baffled.

Come to think of it, Sir Percy looked completely out of place for a stereotypical 21st century man. For one thing, Sir Percy always had a wide-set grin set across his strong lips and a certain glitter in his eyes that nowadays escaped the complexion of most any entity that had to cope with long-working hours and a faulty economy. Even Dr. Cameron himself could have a difficult time keeping up a good manner around his patients on these standard hospital days.

But this man, he kept his cheery manners and humorous laugh despite having to cope with the nurse, his leg in a sling and his lower abdomen wrapped at least seven times so he could hardly move without gasping for breath. And above all, nobody had come to look for Sir Percy. For what Dr. Cameron knew, Sir Percy had no family, no friends. No... such an optimistic person would have to have someone to look forward to at the end of the day, but...

"Sir Percy, any person in the 21st century has seen a television before!" exclaimed Dr. Cameron, joking a bit as he lightly patted his patient on the shoulder.

"Doctor... did you just say this is the _21__st__ century_?" Sir Percy looked around curiously as if he hadn't surveyed the room a half-dozen times before, but when he looked up again at Dr. Cameron, the puzzle in his mind looked as if it had been nearly solved.

"Yes, Sir Percy... It is August 14, 2010." Dr. Cameron studied the look of complete astonishment on Sir Percy's face as his own grew wider and deeper. With the greatest doubt in his mind he asked the question he was now deeply yearning to know the answer to and inadvertently plunged into a venture that would be told as bedtime story to his children for many year to come. "And what year do you think you are from, Sir Percy?"

"Well, let's see," said Sir Percy, half-mumbling to himself," I was going back from France to Richmond to visit Marguerite on the 1st of August before my next escapade to rescue the Count de Renard on the 7th because that was supposed to be the day before his execution and now I've missed it! Poor soul." Percy's face had bounded with passion before slinking into guilt when he realized he had missed the due date, but after reminiscing for but a few moments, carried on, "So, I was unconscious for 12 days and it has been a day since, so that would make it... August 14th! But... but the year where _I_ believe I at least _was_ in is the year of 1793." Sir Percy observed Dr. Cameron inquisitively as the MD removed his hand his Sir Percy's shoulder and began pacing the room, unable to put sense to Sir Percy Blakeney's words.

"No... Sir Percy. That can't be. It is August 16th, _2010_." Dr. Cameron stopped in the middle of the room and stared at Sir Percy, just stared. Of course this man was different with his clothes, hair, demeanor, and tone of voice, but he _had _to be just an unusually, but every day man who had just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. "That hit on your head must have given the wrong ideas. Certainly, there is some other explanation!"

"I assure, my dear fellow, that I know the time period I grew up in and where I should-"

Uncontrollably, Sir Percy started coughing and wheezing, gasping for breath. Of course, he tried desperately to maintain his state of mind and be as gentlemanly as possible as he attempted to cover his mouth. Almost immediately, reverting back to his training and many years of practice, Dr. Cameron reached for the air tank and put the mask over Percy, who, still gasping for breath was slowly losing consciousness.


	4. Deep Golden Brandy

**Berware... I'm going a bit deeper in this chapter than the usual. I haven't said it yet but I do not own anything that is included in any of the published Scarlet Pimpernel series. I do own quite a bit of nurses and doctors though!**

Sir Percy Blakeney was only out for about 3 minutes before he regained consciousness as his endurance and mind-set would never allow him to be taken by something as ridiculous as gun wound, especially being as British as he was. Bleary-eyed, he gazed around as several doctors and nurses were rushing around him, one with another big needle, in the process of inserting into arm. Percy didn't feel the pain. He was too preoccupied with the mask over his mouth. Bewildered, he attempted to remove it but was halted in his efforts by Dr. Cameron who had just noticed that Percy was once again conscious.

As Sir Percy's heart rate turned back to normal, the assorted nurses and doctors slowed in their efforts and the drama decreased and Percy chuckled softly, a nice change to the inane laughter that usually coursed his lips. The half-dozen doctors and nurses exited the room when their emergency procedure was finished leaving only Dr. Cameron who was looking at more papers on what Percy had discovered was a clipboard.

Still a bit out of breath though, Percy started, "Sorry, dear chap. I don't know what ailment preoccupied me at that past moment. Did I give everyone a fright? So terribly sorry I am." And though Sir Percy spoke flippantly and most effortlessly, he was still clutching his side visibly and his toes twitched at the bottom of his cased leg.

Dr. Cameron, still panting a little with the excitement and effort, couldn't help laughing at the ridiculousness of Sir Percy's continued attempt to hide the pain that Percy would believed to damage his pride. The one thing that Dr. Cameron knew was that at a hospital, the patients, as well as the doctors, had to let stretch their pride for best treatment and the most successful recovery.

But Dr. Cameron kept laughing and soon Sir Percy joined with him again with another small chuckle. Any larger a symbol of joy would have sent Percy into another coughing fit which was the last thing that Percy would ever look forward to. "Yes, Sir Percy. I think Suzy nearly had a heart attack, but don't worry about her. I always though she was only good to annoy the sickness out of the patients."

"Sink me, my dear fellow, I hope she recovers quite soon!" _But not before I'm out of this demmned hospital._

Sir Percy still had a resounding pain in his side. Enough for him to show discomfort as his self-control was greatly outstanding, but Sir Percy was to vincible to pain. Trying to hide it, Sir Percy constantly thought about concealing the grimaces that so desperately wanted to sweep his face and slowly thought to remove his hand slowly from his aching side. Finally, though Percy knew he was not currently in danger of another fit, the pain was nearly unbearable and knew of only one remedy that would do the job. It had worked wonders before and would certainly work wonders further.

Not knowing if it would be of correct conduct to ask in such a hospital, Sir Percy still continued with his query, "Dr. Cameron, I don't much care for those needles the nurse keeps sticking into my side. Demmned inconvenient! But if it wouldn't be too much to ask, I wouldn't mind some nice golden brandy."

Dr. Cameron looked puzzled. He had never heard such a suggestion before. Alcoholic beverages were prohibited in a hospital as everyone who had ever entered one and seen the large sign on the front door. Of course, Sir Percy had been unconscious with blood gushing out of his side when he had entered the hospital and hadn't seen the signs, but Dr. Cameron thought the law common sense.

But Percy had a look of genuine innocence across his face as if it was perfectly all right to ask for alcoholic beverages in a public hospital. At this point Dr. Cameron had no idea what to say but was interrupted in his thoughts as apparently, Nurse Suzy had recovered from her epidemic and was squeaking audibly, unusually lost for words at such an idea.

Suzy evidently regained her ability to speak, "Oh nooo, Sir Percy. Oh no! I don't know where you come from, but there are, under no circumstances, no alcoholic beverages allowed at _this_ hospital!"

Then something changed in nurse Suzy as her expression changed from complete disgust to a guilty countenance and was about to speak but no words emerged. After a few moments of both men staring astonished at the disgruntled woman, she started to enunciate further more, "I don't know what came over me! I'm so sorry, Sir Percy, for my disrespect, but I have to say that brandy is not permitted in a public destination such as this hospital. If you will excuse me." And with that the woman, with her patterned pajamas, left the room in a hurry.

Sir Percy was the first to speak, "That was quite bizarre, even for _that_ woman! But that is quite a large disappointment! I am sorry if I imposed, as I had no idea that Brandy would not be allowed in this hospital. The drink is quite beloved where I come from as I treatment for pain and stomach aches and I thought that it would work well. Sink me! My head has started to pound from that woman's sense of courtesy." Sir Percy rubbed his temples with his mobile left arm as if he attempted to lift his right any higher than his upper torso he would again start grunting with pain and desired to spare Dr. Cameron the worry.

Pushing the strands away that escaped its ribbon during his fit, a smile grew on Sir Percy's lips as he remembered how Marguerite would do the same after the soft breeze turned up the soft wisps of his golden. She would silently whisper vows of love and loyalty into his willing ear. The river would flow by through rhythmic ripples and the small chickadees would sing their blithe while Percy rested his golden locks in the crevice of Marguerite's lap, all thoughts of The Revolution, English gossip, and feigned foppishness forgotten; both lost in each other's bliss.

And though he had only been conscious for less than a full day, Percy began to worry, as he always did when he wasn't in control of his own situation. Only giving a small sigh that was barely noticed but not noted by Dr. Cameron, Percy kept thinking and thinking, his face growing blank as it always did when he was lost on the train, but his eyes were unusually wide and deep, full of intrigue and questioning. And though he tried to keep his thoughts as straight as possible, his mind kept reverting not to the condemned aristocrats or to Chauvelin, but of Marguerite's gaze upon him when he left for France or perhaps came home from it.

Every departure seemed like a turn of a season. What you thought you understood was with you for the while suddenly changed and left you. As Spring turned to Summer and Summer to Fall, Percy would change from the lover to a leader and a leader to the adventurer. But as the circles of seasons always returned to time of renewal and life, Percy would always, without doubt, return to Marguerite with the lover in his soul.

But Sir Percy hadn't made it back to Marguerite this time and worried about her as she undoubtedly would be frantic about his whereabouts. Sir Percy had been gone _thirteen_ days and though the League would have searched for him for most of that time, they would first look to Chauvelin and if by that point they didn't find Sir Percy, the League would begin to lose hope. Marguerite, on the other hand, would stay in denial as she would never lose hope but hold to Percy's promise that he would return to her, always.

Sir Percy remembered Chauvelin for the first time and how the little man had gloomed over Sir Percy before Percy had lost consciousness. Chauvelin's evil laugh now resonated in Sir Percy's ears; the glare in his eyes as Chauvelin finally thought himself victorious.


	5. Beyond Control

Richmond; August 4th, 1793

"My God, Andrew! Where is Percy?" Marguerites anxious voice, high-pitched and filled with despair pierced the ears of the three men circling around her. "I am aware that he may always arrive one or two days late, but I _always_ assume that you would know of his whereabouts! And now, you come home _without_ him! Without knowing where he is! Three days later!" With this Marguerite broke into tears as her knees collapsed under her. She was caught by Lord Tony and gently placed on the ottoman under the window. Suzanne rushed to her and held Marguerite's hands in her own.

The day was gloomy both in weather and in attitude. Marguerite sat weeping and the three men of the league started uncomfortably at their shoes. They had followed their chief's orders and this was the first time Percy's plans had gone astray. The only thing they knew was that this terrible twist of fate was not intended. Sir Percy had been unprepared for this sequence of events and now nobody had any idea where he could be. The places they had searched, Percy was nowhere to be found and the places they hadn't were just too large to comb through.

After a few moments and dreadful silence, Ffloulkes was the first to speak, "Marguerite, Percy only told us that he was to go to the tailor, then he would meet us at the _Day Dream_ before sunset. When he didn't arrive we went back to look for him and he was nowhere to be seen." Sir Andrew stopped at this as Marguerite looked up at him, silently pleading. His voice almost cracked for he felt nearly guilty for his best friend's disappearance.

But, he knew that Percy, in his light-hearted manner, would be disappointed if Andrew faded in courage now. Andrew straightened his back and continued. "Thus, we thought there was only once place where he would ever be found, especially when no one else could find him. Percy had given no warning that he did not want to be found. But when we went to Chauvelin's quarters to see if Percy had been capture, we couldn't see him or hear him. Chauvelin, though, looked particularly upset as he yelled at the guards." Ffloulkes was even more uncomfortable now than when he had started. He was tapping his foot while licking his lips as he finished.

Marguerite gathered up her composure, putting the puzzle pieces together and being speaking but her tone was shaking and her hands were still clasped on Suzanne's, "So, Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, that Sir Percy must have been captured by Chauvelin but then escaped. I assume that is the reason Chauvelin was so distressed. But now... But now we have no idea where he is? He wouldn't let Chauvelin take him without a fight." Laughing hardly audibly, "One which he would certainly lose." But Marguerite stopped, a grave thought passing through her mind, "unless he's injured. Andrew, Percy must be hurt!"

"Gone? What do you mean he's gone?" Chauvelin was shouting emphatically at the guards who were supposed to be guarding Blakeney's cell. "This man had a nearly fatal wound anda _shattered_ leg and you're telling me that he got up and strolled out of the prison, avoiding dozens of soldiers! He's been unconscious since we intercepted him, he could hardly twitch his fingers! I've hardly been able to keep him alive! This... this is unacceptable!" At this last sentence, Chauvelin hushed his voice, offering a deathly stare to the soldiers around him. "You three, may go, but I will meeting up with very shortly to see that you get what you deserve for this slip-up."

Chauvelin couldn't believe what was going through his ears. He had been so close to catching his enemy and ending his own torture once and for all. He could smell nearly the victory; taste the sweetness of it on the tip of his tongue. They had been guarding the cell _so _carefully, paying attention to every shortened breath of Sir Percy and then the man just... just vanished? Believing his ears were betraying him, Chauvelin needed to test his eyes as well. Storming out of his room, carefully locking the door behind him, he made his way to cell number 36 on the third floor of the prison.

Chauvelin had walked these corridors so often that he knew of every crack, every unleveled surface of stone, every rat that attempted to crawl over his well-worn leather boots. With the keys dangling in his snow-white, needle-thin hands, Chauvelin attempted to unlock Sir Percy's cell, which was indeed locked. Nobody else besides Chauvelin had a key to the door. Walking into the room, of which its only window was a barred square in the upper right-hand corner, there was almost no light whatsoever until Chauvelin lifted in candle to illuminate the room.

There were no signs of a risky escape; no holes in the walls or ceiling; no unconscious guards; not even the small note of the small traced flower on the small piece of paper. The room was completely empty and Chauvelin couldn't believe his eyes. He wasn't being mocked, we wasn't being watched, he was just completely and utterly alone in the dark, mildewed room.

Chauvelin knew he shouldn't have let his pride overrule his commonsense when he allowed the doctor to mend Sir Percy so that the man could live and then die by the guillotine. Chauvelin should have the Scarlet Pimpernel die and then he would have been rid of the daring adventurer and flippant fop forever.

Slamming the cell door behind and yelling out so many curses in French that it would have made a lady faint, he stormed back to his quarters, spying for any passageways, holes, or drunken soldiers that Percy would have been able to sneak by and out. Though, luckily for Chauvelin, he had not planned to send word of his endeavor to Robespierre until the next morning so the official would never have to know the truth. Chuavelin would only have to live with himself again with the knowledge the Scarlet Pimpernel had apparently outwitted him and escaped his grasps another time.

But... but how? His enemy had been guarded with the finest soldiers the revolution had to offer, let alone crippled and unconscious. Chauvelin had entered Sir Percy's cell many times in the last two days. He would talk to Sir Percy, who had been wrapped, but still unconscious, feeling completely superior as his enemy groaned in his fever caused by deep gun wound in his lower torso. Chauvelin wanted to kick this man, spit in his face, and above all, send him to his death. But not on this bed in a dirty cell in this filthy prison, but on the bed of the guillotine, in front of half the population of France. He had always hoped to destroy this man's honor and pride; to have the people who so recently praised him scorn the man's very existence.

He had let go of that hope and only wanted to give Sir Percy what Chauvelin very well believed he deserved by depriving France of its prey; an expense-free trip to Madam la Guillotine. Chauvelin, after more than a year of tracking this man, was becoming desperate. He had heard about humors that the Scarlet Pimpernel planned to rescue the young Dauphin and was always watching... watching. The fox wished not only to hunt his prey, but destroy it; his hunger drove his very existence.

Now any hope was gone. Chauvelin's desire to see the Scarlet Pimpernel die by the blade of the guillotine had turned back on him. Chauvelin's luck had run out and his stupid decisions had come back to smack him in the face. Now, Chauvelin had other tick against his pride. He had let this man escape.

Chauvelin called to the soldiers who previously were guarding Percy's cell. The three entered his office, nervous and jittery. These men had once been young, poor boys from poor families, bribed with food and family as if they actually had a choice. Chauvelin scoffed. _These _were the best the Revolution had to offer? these young, twisted souls? Chauvelin began to give them what they so much deserved, "I hope you know that you are among the most idiotic slum this city has to offer," raising his voice much louder than you think a man of his stature could, "You have let FRANCE'S MOST HATED ENEMY ESCAPE, YOU NINCOMPOOPS!" Chauvelin's face suddenly became as red as a strawberry in July and sweat droplets were forming at his temples and upper lip. His voice grating, "there... is no use... looking.. for.. him..." Chauvelin's hands were now visibly shaking. "Though you three... may be able to go to the Guillotine in his place!" Chauvelin started to breath again, but when he made noise, it wasn't speech, but a long, drawn out laugh, the malicious laugh that had become a trademark for this small, poorly-tailored man.

The three soldiers were horror-stricken and the small, youngest-looking one looked as if he was about to break down to his knees and weep, but he only leaned on the older soldier to his right, his knees shaking.

"You three are excused... for now." Chauvelin was never a blood-thirsty revolutionary, but now, he was twisted, corrupted, warped with ideas of vengeance and power over these scummy people. He had the brains, the intuition, the leadership, and the gall. There was only one thing he lacked, compassion. He didn't care about the well being of others, only for himself. But from what he had seen in the reign of Robespierre, compassion wasn't a necessity.

Marguerite sat helpless in the great chair in Sir Percy's study. She had been ordered by Sir Andrew Ffloulkes, the second in command, to stay in Richmond while they went to search for Sir Percy once more. Marguerite just listened for a footstep, a door knock, a call from the valet that Sir Percy had arrived home, but all day the only thing that Marguerite heard was the steady tick-tocking of the great grandfather clock across the room and the melody that marked another passing tortuous hour. She couldn't take any more of this. She was said to be the cleverest woman in Europe _and _she was wife of this man and would know him as well if not better than Sir Andrew Ffloukes.

She would find him or as clichéd as it sounds, die trying. Chauvelin had been yelling at the soldiers and he was not a man to yell on a whim. The only thing that Chauvelin would be so enraged about would be the escape of his most hated enemy, The Scarlet Pimpernel. The only way Sir Percy would have been able to be caught would be if he were injured horribly. But if Sir Percy was injured so, how would he have been able to escape? This was the only part Marguerite had not figured out during these tortuous hours and she was furious at herself for being unable. She had known her husband to have supernatural strength, but some things were beyond his control.

7


	6. Light Pink Scrubs

At a slight cough from Dr. Cameron, Sir Percy opened his eyes and smiled. "You really should get that cough of yours treated." Sir Percy looked at the time on the clock above his doorway. "Lud! I do believe I dozed off, my dear chap. Daydreaming, I suppose."

Sir Percy thought about his yacht, the _Day Dream_, and how he was planning to convert one of the cabins below deck to a more suitable living compartment. He hoped that the Skipper remembered to wash off the deck because he usually forgot to do so when Sir Percy wasn't constantly sailing back and forth across the English Channel. The Skipper was good at managing the ship, but wasn't always as responsible in keeping it clean, although Sir Percy paid him handsomely.

Dr. Cameron was still eyeing Sir Percy curiously. "Sir Percy, I believe, before all these... interruptions, that we were having a discussion, about your, whereabouts. If I can recall, you said that you were from the 18th century? That would seem highly unlikely."

"Sink me, I do suppose that you would think so! But _I _also find it highly unlikely that I would be in the _21__st_ century. It seems the world is full of misconceptions. Are we ever where we think we are or where we want to be? Hmh?" Sir Percy wasn't expecting an answer, but looked at Dr. Cameron as if he did, just to have a bit of fun at worrying his doctor.

"I'm a doctor, not a philosopher."

In truth, thinking about England had raised his spirits and his good-humor. "Oh really? I thought you were a monkey! Curious creatures, they are. One of them stole my quizzing glass while I was in India when I was younger. I never did get it back." Sir Percy finally realized he no longer had his quizzing glass now and felt empty without it. "Dr. Cameron, do you know what a quizzing glass is?"

"I have not the slightest idea. Why would you need it?"

"I believe I had one about 13 days ago. It is sort of an eyeglass with a string that goes around your neck. Do you have it?

Dr. Cameron left the room and came back five minutes later with a pile of clothes. Sir Percy frowned when he realized how horrible a job the nurses had done in washing the linen. They were now faded and shrunk so that they would never fit Sir Percy again. But, Sir Percy was delighted to see that a number of small trinkets were left in a small bag on top. Dr. Cameron placed the entire pile on top of the counter and looked at Sir Percy.

"Ah, yes," said Sir Percy, "could you bring my that small clear bag?" Dr. Cameron reached over and picked up the bag and handed it to Sir Percy's open left hand. Sir Percy opened the bag to reveal several dozen gold coins, his papers that actually said he was "Monsieur Percy Blakeney, Baronnet de Richmond, l'Angleterre," and his quizzing glass. "Sink me! The glass is broken. It is a shame, that was a gift from the Prince of Wales."

"The Prince of Wales?"

"He plays a mighty fine game of hazard though he could do with a wig adjustment. I've been trying to convince him for years, but he just will not listen. He wants all my advice on cravats and cuffs, but never on his wig, what!" Sir Percy set a ghastly look upon his face. "Demmed stubborn man."

"Lud, Sir! Where is my cravat?" Sir Percy was quite calm as he drawled out these few simple words, but his eyes were slightly more opened than his usual lazy, bored look.

"Your what?"

"Odd's Fish, Sir, my cravat! The big piece of fluffy white linen that was tied exquisitely around my neck? Where the devil is it?" Sir Percy turned his head in an affected manner to his piles of clothes, but he could not see it anywhere. Apparently, talking about clothes turned the fop on in Sir Percy.

Finally Dr. Cameron spoke up, "Oh, you mean that filthy, rumpled bow that was half-strangling you?

"I assure you, that _my_ cravat is neither filthy _nor_ rumpled."

"This one certainly was, Sir Percy, courtesy of that fine ditch next to the bike path. We couldn't figure out the knot so we had to cut it off and... dispose of it. It was covered in dirt and blood, anyways."

Sir Percy had a look of horror on his face and started to mumble underneath his breath inaudibly.

"I had no idea it meant so much to you, Sir Percy."

Dr. Cameron had taken the pastime of looking at his feet while Sir Percy toyed with the golden coins on his own bed. "I can assure you we can find you another one."

"That would be_ most_ appreciated, Dr. Cameron, as I will need it once I leave this hospital and can get out of this-." Sir Percy still didn't know what to call his latest attempt at fashion. It was certainly most horribly tailored, but at least it was one of his favorite colors, sky blue.

"It's called a hospital gown, Sir Percy." Dr. Cameron explained to Sir Percy, "It's made for the patients at the hospital so that we can do most procedures easily and so patients don't overheat among other things."

Sir Percy was studying his current garments and realized how... open they really were. But being an 18th century Brit, he didn't think much of it. At least the nurses had supplied him with some strange sort of very short britches.

Sir Percy saw Dr. Cameron check his watch. Dr. Cameron didn't want to leave but he had promised his wife and daughter that he would take them out to dinner once he got home.

"It's getting close to the end of my workday, Sir Percy, and I do have plans with my family and I have other patients to check up on before I leave. I will talk to tomorrow. Nurse Suzy-" Sir Percy groaned in displeasure. Dr. Cameron continued, "Nurse Suzy will be in shortly to change your wrappings and get you ready for the night. Good-Night!"

"Good-Night, Sir, and I hope you have the most splendid time with your daughter and wife!"

"How did you-?"

"You had a marvelously done painting in your coin pouch."

"When did you-? Never mind. And Sir Percy?

"Hmh?"

"It's called a photograph."

"'Tis marvelous."

And at that, Dr. Cameron left the room, turning right to head to his office. Sir Percy was definitely tired, which could be attributed to his day of upsets and intrigue. He was just dozing off when he heard a small knock on the door and that high-pitched giggling. Apparently, nurse Suzy had a short memory and did not hold grudges as she came right over to Sir Percy and patted his golden curls as if he was a dog.

"Good... Evening... Ms... Suzy..." Sir Percy managed to edge out these four words in between the unsteady knocks on his head. She had barely entered the room and already, if Sir Percy could have moved to the wall, he would have started banging his head against it. He had to make do with shoving his hands in his face.

Percy _was_ a very patient, understanding man, but this woman was just too much to handle. He wished for Marguerite's presence now, not so that they could comfort each other, but so that Marguerite could just make Nurse Suzy be quiet. Percy tried to remain undaunted by just toying with the golden coins in his hand.

"Ah!" exclaimed the nurse. "I see that you found those little knick-knacks that we found in your pockets! Those cloths were certainly hard to remove! Ah!" she said as she saw the coins in Sir Percy's hands. "I almost believed those gold coins were real when I saw them! Haha!" Nurse Suzy clapped her hands together like an excited little schoolgirl and took a coin out of Sir Percy's hands and bit down on it.

"Ouch! Sir Percy, why isn't it bending?" She continued to bite down on it.

"Because that coin is real."

"Oh your accent is just so thick, you could cut it with a knife!" She was giggling again. "It really is very cute!"

Percy was in a struggle to maintain his usually perfect, affected gallantry at this time. "If "cute" is what you wish to call it, be my guest," said Sir Percy, biting the inside of his lower lip. "I say, what are the standards of becoming a nurse at this hospital might ask you?"

Nurse Suzy was still gnawing at the coin. "It is not real! I've never seen any coin like it! I thought that gold coins are bigger with an eagle engraved into them? This is nothing but a small piece of colored metal!" Nurse Suzy was examined the coin once more. She remembered the question Sir Percy had asked her. "Oh! I do believe that I had to attend a nursing school for about two years. I wasn't the smartest in my class-"

_Obviously _

"-but I wanted to work at the hospital so I worked really very hard I became a nurse. I was nearly the hardest thing I've done in my _life _but I managed to squeeeeeeze out that degree. And now I get to wear scrubs with rainbow giraffes on them! Now how about I change your bandages again? Did I ever tell you about the time that I won the lottery? It was only about the $500 one but I still won it though."

"La! What is a Lottery?"

Evidently, Nurse Suzy had not heard Sir Percy talk. "-And yesterday I went to the movies with my boyfriend-"

_Who could stand more than minute with this woman and not go insane?_ Percy attempted to regain his good-humor "What in great God's name is a boyfriend or a movie?"

Again, Sir Percy was ignored as Nurse Suzy continued to babble away. "-Oh! Yesterday I went to the mall and I saw this really pretty dress that had KITTENS all over it-"

Percy had given up and just slowly closed his eyes and tried to go to a happy place where he just daydreamed about saving aristocrats, Marguerite's beautiful smile, and smashing Chauvelin's face with a pie. The usual.

"Why do like having "Sir" in front of your name?" She gasped that little intake of air that people take when they are excited and then whispered, "Are you a knight?"

"Have I not said "Sir Percy Blakeney _Baronet" _at least half a dozen times in the last twenty four hours."

"Oh, Sir Percy, you are so snappy, you naughty little boy!" Sir Percy had been anything but snappy; he had just talked in the foppish tone known so well at all social events. This woman was just delusional and couldn't think about one single thing for more than ten seconds.

"Awe! It's that blue-jay again!"

Could this woman ever _stop_ talking? While he could be off in France, saving condemned aristocrats, he was stuck, listening to this woman gibber. She talked as she retrieved the wrapping from the cabinet. She talked as she removed the seven-layers of cloth from Sir Percy.

Sir Percy again saw the black caterpillar swimming in a small red pond along his side. She talked as she poked at it slightly, making Sir Percy all the more uncomfortable.

"Oh no, it's seeping again. I'll go find Terri. She's better at this kind of stuff." And Nurse Suzy left the room, leaving Sir Percy with his wound completely uncovered and his hospital gown rolled down.

"Aren't you going to-" but Suzy had already disappeared. Sir Percy was starting to get a little chilly and a little uncomfortable with so much flesh left bare. "This situation is demmed uncomfortable," sighed Sir Percy, but he just stayed there and began examining the popcorned ceiling again.

At least for once in the last twenty minutes there was peace and quiet. He was alone for more than ten minutes when another female nurse poked her head in. Nurse Suzy was nowhere to be found.

"It's Percy right?" Asked the tall, blond, Marguerite-aged nurse. (Don't start thinking like that, it's not going to happen).

"_Sir _Percy, if you will."

"Okay... How long have you been waiting like that, with all... that... uncovered?" She wasn't wearing the giraffe-covered scrubs like Nurse Suzy, but rather reserved light-pink colored ones.

"Lud! It's been a demmed uncomfortable ten minutes now, I suppose." Sir Percy couldn't help but be relieved that this nurse was neither giggly nor bubbly, but maybe a bit shy and all the more serious about her work. "And it is quite chilly in here. So if you wouldn't mind, Miss?"

"It's... um... Terri. But I am so sorry that Nurse Suzy just left you here. I didn't see her... come out, but just now she told me to... come check up on you and then I find you like this." Terri was uncomfortable in her current position. "I might have to talk to Rupert about this."

She _was_ shy and she felt very uneasy about reporting Suzy to the Chief of Medicine. There was quite the awkward silence as Terri found the wrapping and continued to finish the job Nurse Suzy had barely managed to start.

"Has Dr. Cameron informed you of any of the details of how you came to be at the hospital?" She said when she while wrapping Sir Percy.

"Dr. Cameron informed me that I was found by a young lady, face-down in the dirt and was dressed in those clothes. She called the hospital and they took me here where I regained consciousness twelve days later. Correct?" Sir Percy raised an eyebrow in question. "But it seemed to me that I was-" he was interrupted when an announcement came on that indicated the end of the shift for most of the doctors and nurses and that the on-call doctors would be taking over.

"Never mind that, I have to take the night shift anyways. You were saying?" "Oh, never mind." Percy had thought better than telling another person here of his previous whereabouts. He didn't know these people and he wasn't a person just to trust blindly.

"No, please continue. What seemed to you?" Though Terri had heard about a particularly strange patient in the ICU and how he came to be at the hospital, she hadn't heard a lot of the rumors.

She finished wrapping Sir Percy, put the wrapping down and looked at him. No, it wasn't to stare at his beautiful golden locks, but to try to figure out the reason why Sir Percy was in this hospital bed in front of her.

"It seems that I was in the completely wrong century," said Sir Percy.

Terri wasn't expecting _that_. She certainly hadn't heard _that_ rumor. She was completely bewildered and her previous look of questioning turned into a look of utter bewilderment.

"You mean, metaphorically speaking, right?"

"No, I mean I was in the completely wrong century. One minute I was galloping on my horse off to Calais to board the _Day Dream_ and sail back to England to finally spend some time with my wife and then the next minute I had some devilish pains in my leg and my side. I fell off and I hit my head and then I see Mon-sewer Chambertin looming over me, everything goes dark, and then I awake to find myself here." Sir Percy was being completely cool-headed and talked slowly, as if everything that he had just referenced happened daily.

"Wait? Chambertin?"

"Pardon, 'tis monstrous bad habit, _Chauvelin_."

Terri had heard that name before. She didn't know where from, it had an odd ring to it, but she couldn't _quite_ place it.

She would think about it more later, but now continued with unraveling the story of Sir Percy. She _had_ heard the rumors of how Sir Percy got to be at _The Boston Hospital_. "Sir Percy, you weren't _just_ found on the side of a biking path and taken here." She stopped, wary of continuing any further.

"What ever could you mean, Miss?"

"Sir Percy... you... you died before you arrived at the hospital." She bit her lower lip, not knowing how this strange man would react.

"Odd's Life, Madam! What you suggest is preposterous!" Sir Percy was completely astonished. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and threw his arms up again a little too high and started coughing. Terri rushed to the air mask.

"Sink me! I'm quite all right." Said Sir Percy in between coughs. "Just give me a moment or two and I'll be as good as new. Well, not as new because I don't believe I as born with a couple of holes in my side and leg." Sir Percy had regained composure and was speaking in his lazy drawl. Terri couldn't help but start laughing.

"Lud, madam, what did I say to make a lady as pretty as you laugh?"

"Oh, it's just your accent. I've never heard anyone say, "Sink me!" before!" She started to laugh even harder and Sir Percy was now chuckling as loudly as it was comfortable.

When they had stopped laughing, Sir Percy found that it would be of no use to try to hide behind the fop and talked in the tone somewhere in between the dandy and the adventurer.

Terri continued much more softly, "But Sir Percy, I heard you were devastatingly injured. Nobody had seen you get to where you were. You were sort of concealed in the ditch, but luckily there was also a man who came biking along. He saved your life. You were losing so much blood and he used his own shirt to stop the bleeding, but your heart stopped. He didn't give a name, but just went along his way when the ambulance* arrived. The paramedics thought you were a goner. They couldn't use the defibrillator-"

"What is a defibrillator, I might ask you? said Sir Percy. Apparently, Terri didn't know that Sir Percy had no idea what any sort of modern technology was and not to use any kind of modern-day vocabulary involving them.

"The defibrillator. It is a machine that uses electronic pulses to start your heart again. You couldn't use it because you had two open wounds and even if your heart started, you would bleed to death, but then all of a sudden, when the ambulance was just coming back normally to the hospital again, your heart started pumping again. The paramedics said they'd never seen anything like it." There was a long silence. "I've never seen anything like it."

"La!" exclaimed Sir Percy. "I don't find anything about that hard to believe! I _am _British, after all. And you're an American! What?" He had unconsciously switched to the good-humored fop that delights late 18th century parlors.

"Sir Percy, please don't try to change the subject. I know that you think that you're from the 18th century, but that's impossible," said Terri who had moved to the armchair besides Sir Percy's bedside.

"And wouldn't you suppose that I think it is impossible that I came more than two centuries into future? Odd's Fish, miss, I've already had this talk with that Cameron fellow. This is just as strange to me as it is to you, except that I am the one stuck in a hospital in a completely different country. Hmh?" Sir Percy brought the broken eyeglass up to his eye out of habit, but wasn't thrilled when he couldn't see through it.

There was another long silence. "Sir Percy, there is nothing more that I can do to help you, but if there's anything you need, feel free to ask." Sir Percy didn't say anything and Terri made to exit the room.

"I wouldn't mind to have some real food! All I've had to eat is that awful liquefied solution that tastes mighty monstrous." Percy's stomach grumbled as he thought of a nice brisket with a mug of hard cider.

"I'll talk to Dr. Cameron about it, but I don't think you can eat solid food just yet." Another long silence. "I have to go talk to another doctor. Goodnight, Sir Percy." She left the room and dimmed the lights slightly, leaving Percy alone.

Sir Percy was definitely tired, but found it hard to sleep, the same as the night before. He just felt cold and empty without Marguerite besides him. His mind kept spinning but it kept reverting back to the same though, Marguerite. Percy had had so many plans to rescue the various French aristocrats and now he couldn't know if he would ever save another soul again. But eventually he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

*Ambulances were started in 1792, just in time for Sir Percy to know about them.

**Any time differences can be attributed between Sir Percy "blanking out" and a time wrinkle between the different centuries and possibly universes.**

** Sorry it took me so long to update. I just had a lot of time to write while I was on vacation and when I got back I had to do summer reading and more Basketball camps and stuff. "Life of Pi" was an... interesting book, though I don't think I'll be writing any FanFiction about it. Hehe... no.**


	7. New Jersey: An Original 13

**Hey! So it's been about a year since I wrote anything on this story. I'm only starting again because of Clio1792, who has been egging me on to continue this. However, I'm changing it up a bit. I'm only coming back to this because of a new twist I had thought of. I'm sorry for any continuity problems in this, though. **

Sir Percy awoke to the sliding door of his hospital room. The bright light that was assaulting his eyes informed him that it was at least past eight. Putting his bearings back to together, he yawned, which sent a not-so-pleasant sensation back down to his abdomen, his muscles still sore from the initial wound and all of his coughing over the last couple of days.

"Ah! I'm glad to see that you're awake." Dr. Cameron had entered the room. "I came in a bit earlier, but you were still fast asleep. I thought you would need every minute of it, so I let you be."

"Not to worry, dear chap." Sir Percy hadn't the energy yet, having just woken up, to say anything more.

"I won't then." Dr. Cameron looked over his notes, his eyes resting on one notion longer than the others. After a moment, he started up again, "Though there is one thing that I need to talk to you about."

Dr. Cameron paused, allowing an awkward silence to pervade the room.

"Lud! Just say what is needed then. It's not like I'm going anywhere." Percy might be patient, but he never liked having information withheld from him.

"Okay, okay. Well, it seems some of you story has leaked to a few other hospitals, one in particular and..." Dr. Cameron hesitated.

"Sink me. Am I going to have to sit here all day?"

"A fellow doctor wants to have a consult."

"And why would such an occurrence cause you such anguish?"

Dr. Cameron looked extremely uneasy about what he was about to say. However, he began, although with much force. "Let's just say that this doctor isn't the... friendliest of sorts. He has quite the reputation, if you will. He'd be coming all the way from New Jersey."

"Ah! One of the original 13 colonies. Though you had just added Vermont, I heard."

"Uh, yes, Sir Percy." Dr. Cameron didn't feel like having a history lesson in the entire midst of this conversation. "Anyway, this doctor will be arriving this afternoon. I..."

"His name?" Sir Percy interrupted Dr. Cameron.

"Huh?"

"His name. You can tell a devilish lot about a person by his name, and what he wishes to be called by." Percy said this as if it were the most obvious notion in the world.

"His name is... Dr. Gregory House. He.. uh... is called 'House' by everyone in the doctoring community." Suddenly, Dr. Cameron's pager went off.

"Sorry, Percy," said Dr. Cameron, ignoring the title. "I have to take this page. I'll be back later, before Dr. House gets here. There are a few things that we need to go over." He left the room without waiting for a reply.

"Sir... Percy."

**Okay, I'm sorry that this is really short. I'm just getting back into it. I don't know about any other HOUSE lovers in the Pimpernel community, but I'm one of them. It's the reason why this fic never really was updated. The only way I would ever be able to return to it was to take this route. I hope you like it, even if you're not into HOUSE. Again, this was for Clio, who I have always been grateful for!**


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